When Thou Joinest With the Nine
by Silver Bolt2
Summary: The Nine Rings of Power corrupt and destroy a powerful royal family. Based on a stanza from John Keats’ “Ode to Apollo.”
1. I

"When Thou Joinest With the Nine" by Silver Bolt  
  
Rating: PG for themes- this isn't happy Disney, folks.  
  
Genre: Lord of the Rings; Drama/Mystery  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own this world, the Nazgul, or Sauron. Nor do I own the rights to that Keats' poem, but last I checked a writer's stuff becomes public domain 50 years after death. Keats is pretty dead. But I don't intend to infringe on the masters Tolkien or Keats, I am just a humble student... don't hurt me!  
  
Summary: The Nine Rings of Power corrupt and destroy a powerful royal family. Based on a stanza from John Keats' "Ode to Apollo."  
  
But when thou joinest with the Nine,  
  
And all the powers of song combine,  
  
We listen here on earth:  
  
The dying tones that fill the air,  
  
And charm the ear of evening fair,  
  
From the Great God of Bards, receive their heavenly birth.  
  
- - -  
  
Galdred was aware of warmth and contentment. His young wife Minla slept soundly in the darkness. Something had awoken him, but whatever it was, it was silent now. He felt like getting up, like exercising somehow in the cool night, but he didn't know why.  
  
Nine for mortal men, doomed to die.  
  
The whisper echoed through his chamber and seemed to fade off down the valley, away into the night. His belly was tight and he was drenched with cold sweat. What was it? Why was he so afraid? It was nonsense, he told himself. An odd nightmare, he'd only imagined it. What could those words mean? He tried to relax his body, but his mind replayed the awful whisper- Nine for mortal men, doomed to die. Die. Die.  
  
He'd been thinking about death a lot lately, ever since his eldest brother Goturin had vanished almost a year ago. Goturin was their father's heir, the future King of Minas Nevir, but now that would fall on his second brother Maropin. Galdred was the youngest of eight, hardly a likely heir, but power was his ultimate dream. The night of Goturin's disappearance, Galdred had awoken in much the same way. In fact, thinking of it, tonight was the anniversary of that night. Galdred had always coveted the power that Goturin was to have and had seemingly, suddenly, given up. In a few short hours it would seem that Marodin had followed his elder brother's footsteps.  
  
Galdred was a good man, despite his longing for power. He was faithful to his wife and a patient father to their two daughters. He had little opportunity within the Nevir, being youngest of so many, but had joined the guard and risen in the ranks. He commanded respect but no men, for he was still too young to lead by city laws. He grimaced at the thought of having to wait another five years before he could lead even a small division. He was a born leader, he knew. He had fought in the Numenorean wars at the age of fifteen, serving as a squire to the aged Captain of the Guard. When the Captain fell to an enemy arrow, Galdred had carried his body ten leagues to their camp, and then returned to lead the few remaining soldiers of their company on to kill more than three times their number in those foul savages. And to think, they called themselves Numenoreans, when Nevir and its followers obviously controlled the island. They'd driven those tall barbarians from Numenor  
altogether. But Galdred had been undecorated after the war... the last of his men were killed on their return, an ambush of course, and too weary to fight they'd been massacred. He was lucky to have escaped with his life, of course, but no one had heard of his feats. He'd been taught that boasting was a sin, and anyway, he could not have been honored without witnesses, and all of those were dead.  
  
Minla murmured something in her sleep and shifted position. He stared at her, so faintly illuminated in the soft moonlight, but he knew every crease and curve without needing light. She was his consolation in everything. No matter what happened to him, she would love him, and that made everything bearable. He smoothed the rich black hair that fell across the pillow and wrapped his arm around her. His eyes closed against the darkness and he fell back to sleep.  
  
As Galdred faded into the dream world, he saw himself moving to the window and watched a rider cloaked in blackness ride from the tower to the rhythm of ominous hoof beats. The scene played in his mind over and over again, with that whisper seeming to fall into time with the horse's hooves. Canter and chant blended into one solid line of dread.  
  
Nine for Mortal Men, doomed to die. 


	2. II

Disclaimer et cetera in part one  
  
"Galdred!" said a gruff voice behind him. He had been on his way to guard duty, still haunted by the whispers. He turned and saw his fifth brother, Epahar, followed by several of his guardsmen. "Come to the throne room immediately," he said, and he and his party disappeared down the Grand Corridor.  
  
Epahar was notoriously closed-mouthed, and Galdred knew better than to pursue him and ask him what was going on. He hurried toward the throne room, wondering what this sudden conference was about. He wondered briefly if others had had the dreams he had, and heard that awful whisper. But he quickly dismissed this thought as fancy. Probably some dull business about the guard.  
  
A wave of dread passed over him as he entered the throne room, and he realized this would be far from an ordinary guard meeting. Four of his brothers were in the room, looking anxiously at Maropin's usual seat. It was empty. Just as the main doors were closed behind him, his father came in through his side door, followed by Epahar and Goturin's wife, escorting Lady Janhimi.  
  
Janhimi, Maropin's bride of ten years, was red eyed and leaned heavily on Bereca as if she had no strength to stand on her own. A page brought a chair for her and she sank into it. Bereca placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, but her face bore the same emotionless mask it had since Goturin's disappearance.  
  
Bereca had always been quiet and seemed very strong, but when Goturin vanished last year she had completely closed herself to the world. Galdred had not seen once this entire year an expression of sadness or joy. She seemed so unaffected by the world around her, as if she had been living in another land the entire time. She was silent, stoic, almost... empty. Yes, that was it. Bereca was empty.  
  
Janhimi let her hair fall in front of her face, and Galdred could no longer see her expression. He focused on his father, King Lozornath of Minas Nevir, as he took his throne and looked solemnly upon his sons and the two women.  
  
"Tragedy is upon us again; let us waste no time. A year ago, we lost Goturin. He was my heir, my eldest son, and would have made a strong leader. But we moved on, and I began to groom Maropin to take my place one day. Maropin was not the born leader his brother is, but he was learning quickly and would have made a good king."  
  
Here his father paused and Galdred wondered at his use of the past tense- Maropin would have made a good king? What had happened? Galdred realized the significance of his absence and Janhimi's grief-  
  
"Maropin has disappeared."  
  
Galdred and his brothers moaned grief, shock and dismay. He himself felt that he would faint and heard again that echo of the evil whisper.  
  
Nine for mortal men doomed to die!  
  
It repeated and repeated, it swelled in volume, and he clasped his hands over his ears. NO! he shouted at the voice, the whisper that was now a scream. The room swirled and tilted and he felt himself falling, sinking, and consumed by blackness.  
  
Then suddenly, the room righted itself. He thought he must have shouted aloud, but no one was looking at him. Janhimi was sobbing, curled on the floor. Bereca simply stared at her with the same blank expression. His brothers rubbed their faces, unable to grasp the second tragedy that had befallen them. His father looked so worn at that moment, so old and tired. Not weak, just exhausted.  
  
"Inredir, come here," said the King, and his third son moved toward the throne. Inredir was one of the most brilliant minds in the kingdom, and spent his days studying science, philosophy, and literature. He was defiant by nature, but Galdred expected him to act appropriately and obey his father at this moment-  
  
"No," he whispered hoarsely, so quiet Galdred was not certain he'd heard correctly.  
  
"Inredir," repeated the King.  
  
"It isn't right, father, I won't do it. I cannot be your heir. I cannot be King. You know it is true. Let Fiven do it. Epahar, anyone but me. I cannot do it. I cannot."  
  
"Inredir, it is the custom. It is the law. You can and you must. You will. I will not argue this with you, my son." He drew himself up to his full height, taller than any of his sons. His eyes hardened with an expression that commanded obedience.  
  
"What will you do to me if I refuse? Cut me out of the family? Banish me? Kill me? I care not. But I will not take that seat, father. I will not replace my brother as if it were that simple. It isn't. Besides, how do you know he is gone?" Inredir's eyes glinted defiantly.  
  
"You will not question me. I am your King, and it is my command that you take this seat beside me and prepare to take my kingdom at the event of my death."  
  
Fiven, the fourth Son, stepped forward. "Father, forgive me, but if Inredir does not wish to inherit your kingdom, would it not be best to honor that? By forcing the throne on him, you not only destroy his life as a scholar, but also place the country in unwilling and therefore incompetent hands. Would it not behoove you to choose someone more eager and able?"  
  
The King scowled at Fiven. "Someone like you? You are too eager, my son, and you speak out of turn. If you are so eager to please, why do you question me?" His tone was so scathing that Fiven shrank back immediately. He looked at the entire assemblage. "Does anyone else wish to question me?" As he spoke he stood and drew himself up to his full height.  
  
"Inredir, I declare thee mine heir. Take thy seat at my right hand, for thou art my progeny."  
  
Inredir hesitated only momentarily, and then slowly obeyed. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head in defeat, as one who is going to his doom.  
  
"It pains me greatly that I should lose two sons, so well suited to the task of assuming the throne, but I know Inredir will not fall short of my expectations. I am sure you all think it odd that Goturin and Maropin should have disappeared on the same day a year apart, and believe me I dislike it greatly. But I do not think it a pattern. I do not pretend to know why they left. But now, my six sons, I command you to stay. I am the King of Minas Nevir, and I shall order the guards at the gate to allow none of you to pass without my leave. You are not prisoners here, my sons, you are protected. If one of you should defy my word and leave the city, you will never be allowed to reenter the kingdom. You will be killed on sight by any loyal soldier of this land. I am King and my word is law, unchangeable and unquestionable." He looked them over slowly, and then walked out of the room. 


	3. III

Thanks to everyone reading this!!! (No, Kayla, I had no idea that Silver Bolt had anything to do with Beast Wars, as far as I knew it was nothing but a twisted invention of my mind.)  
  
  
  
Galdred left the throne room, his mind a tangled jumble. Maropin gone? Inredir the Heir? Ah, he had never expected this. Inredir would be the one to write a book about his brothers' deeds. Why would his father force Inredir to accept his position, when to do so would probably ruin the kingdom? To be sure, it was tradition, but… it made no sense.  
  
Nevirians were natural warriors, ruthless and cruel- everything Inredir was not. They were power hungry and usually got what they wanted. Since the Tall Barbarians had left Numenor, the Nevirian army had little to do. But not two weeks ago word had been sent that the peoples of the western coast were beginning to dissent. A pacifistic, weak leader was far from what they needed now. Fiven might be too opportunistic, but he at least would not be a weak king.  
  
Inredir was brilliant. He was a philosopher, a great thinker. But he was no warrior and had no training in either swordplay or in politics. Goturin's wife Bereca was probably a better fighter than he…  
  
Galdred suddenly realized the ramifications of his father's command that the sons remain in the city- he could not fight in any wars. This thought hit him like a punch to the stomach. The only ones he could participate in would have to take place around the city, and not a single battle had been fought within view of Minas Nevir in over 1000 years. What could he do if he were not a soldier? Perhaps his father would allow him to go to battles, the people loved to see their Princes leading troops into battle in their finery. His heart sank. After two sons had mysteriously disappeared, his father would never risk one of them in battle- not even a lowly youngest son. Galdred could see his entire life's work, his entire life purpose torn apart in that very moment. The army was a small reconciliation for his lowly place in life, but now even that was gone.  
  
Galdred walked mindlessly, not knowing or caring where his feet took him. Buried in his thoughts, he suddenly looked up and realized he was outside the spinning houses.  
  
Nevirians scorned idleness, even in the nobility. His wife and the wives of his brothers worked here in the spinning houses in between caring for their children and appearing at court. He suddenly realized why he had come- he had to talk to Minla.  
  
A fat, harsh woman named Jannin ran the spinning-house where Minla worked. He knocked on the door and Jannin greeted him with a frown.  
  
"Mistress Jannin, I must speak with Minla." It rankled that he had to ask this woman's permission to speak with his wife. Jannin's husband had been killed in the Numenorean Wars, and Jannin had inherited his rather nice estate. She had purchased one of the spinning houses and ran it well, if strictly.  
  
"Minla!" barked Jannin over her shoulder, and Minla appeared. It was obvious to him now that no one in the city had heard of Maropin's disappearance. Avoiding Jannin's cold stare, he steered Minla out of the building and down the street. She looked at him, confused, and read his troubled expression instantly.  
  
"Galdred, what's happened? What's the matter?"  
  
He felt a lump rising in his throat and choked back a sob.  
  
"Galdred!" Minla stopped and refused to budge. They were in a busy alley, and Galdred knew better than to discuss such business in public.  
  
"Not here," he mumbled, and walked her quickly to their rooms.  
  
When they entered their chamber, she threw her arms around him and he began to weep. "Shh, shh," she murmured in her warm comforting way, and moved him to sit on the bed.  
  
"Maropin's gone, Minla. Just like Goturin. Inredir will be king now."  
  
"Inredir? But-" she paused, unsure of what to say.  
  
"Inredir doesn't want to be king, but Father's forcing him. And, he said-" Galdred broke off, unable to tell his wife what he himself could hardly believe, much less accept. "He forbade any of his sons from leaving the city, ever."  
  
Minla looked at him, unable to absorb all this information at once.  
  
"I heard a voice last night, Minla. It said- it said-"  
  
"Nine for mortal men, doomed to die…" She looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes.  
  
"You heard it too?"  
  
"You were talking in your sleep, love. You said it over and over. It scared me so badly, Galdred, but I didn't want to mention it this morning. You were tossing and turning, it must have been a terrible nightmare and I hoped you hadn't remembered it."  
  
"What could it mean? I thought it might have something to do with myself and my brothers, but there are only eight of us…"  
  
"With your father, it makes nine."  
  
He shook his head. "No, it couldn't be Father, wouldn't he have disappeared first?"  
  
"I don't know, but nine of *what?"*  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Nine for mortal men, but nine what?"  
  
"If I could find out, maybe I could keep it from happening again. Maybe I could save my brothers. It is something evil, I can tell, but I do not know what."  
  
"Galdred, please, swear upon your wedding ring that you will not pursue this thing."  
  
Minla rarely spoke so firmly, and Galdred looked at her in surprise. "What is it?"  
  
"I had a nightmare last night too. You were…" she paused and shivered, then continued, "You were searching for something, and I didn't want you to go, and you looked at me and then suddenly disappeared. You were gone, and I was so lonely. Galdred, please don't pursue it, whatever evil there is. Promise me."  
  
He stared at her dumbly, not knowing how to react. Her large dark eyes were full of tears and her tone so pleading… but why, if he had an opportunity to save his family, would she try to stop him? He sensed suddenly that she was holding something back. "Minla," he said gently, "what is it?"  
  
She looked away. Tentatively at first, then with growing courage and volume, she began to sing a haunting melody.  
  
"But when thou joinest with the Nine,  
  
And all the powers of song combine,  
  
We listen here on earth:  
  
The dying tones that fill the air,  
  
And charm the ear of evening fair,  
  
From the Great God of Bards, receive their heavenly birth."  
  
When she finished he turned her face towards him and saw her eyes filling with tears. "The words are so pretty, but the tune is so sad. I sang it when you left me. My heart was broken, and I sang that song. It must have some connection; your voice and my dream are too powerful to be coincidences. But Galdred, even if you are doomed to die, whatever it is that took you away from me, this *Nine,* is a fate worse than death." 


	4. IV

Nine for mortal men, doomed to die.  
  
Galdred awoke with a start. No! No, not again. But he knew. He'd seen this coming for months.  
  
Exactly one year had passed since Maropin had vanished and Inredir had reluctantly taken the throne. To the surprise of all he had grown accustomed to his place. He had acquired the knowledge, the bearing, and the abilities of one to be king. He had even taken an interest in the wars that were brewing among the Western Rebels.  
  
But now Inredir had followed his brothers to the unknown.  
  
He gently shook Minla. She roused and looked at him, her eyes sleepy but aware.  
  
"Minla, it's happened again. I can feel it."  
  
"Inredir?" she gasped. She shook her head, disbelieving. "Not Inredir. He."  
  
"He has changed. You saw him change. And everyone knew it was bound to happen. Now three years in a row, the Heir had disappeared. It's Fiven's turn."  
  
And oh, how Fiven had coveted his brother's position. Galdred had coveted it too, of course, but Fiven was so *obvious.* He openly sneered at Inredir's attempts to learn battle strategy. Everyone knew Fiven hoped that Inredir would follow Goturin and Maropin. Galdred did not think he could bear to see Fiven's superior sneer as he was named prince. None of the brothers were especially close, but Galdred had grown to respect Inredir. His loss was such a blow.  
  
How would the people take it? The Nevirians were loyal to the crown by nature. Maropin's disappearance last year had sent them into deep mourning, but Inredir's. there would be such panic. This situation was going from bad to worse.  
  
Reluctantly Galdred pulled himself from the warm bed and dressed. Minla rolled over and looked at him.  
  
"Are you. are you really certain?" Her voice cracked as she spoke and Galdred knew that she'd feared it would happen as well. Galdred thought over her question carefully.  
  
"I just don't know how I know it, Minla, but I do. I can feel it. Can't you?"  
  
She nodded slowly. "But Galdred, dear heart, think before you speak to Fiven. I know how you feel about him, and his greed won't be appropriate today- but he is the new heir, and angering him will do you no good."  
  
He kissed her forehead sadly, knowing she was right. "But the heir for how long?" he wondered out loud as he left the room.  
  
He could not imagine Fiven leaving the kingdom after finally gaining the place of Heir. Fiven yearned for power more than Galdred himself, and as fourth son his chance of getting it was just as poor as Galdred's. But now Fiven would be king. surely he would not leave that for the world. ah, but there were no guarantees anymore. Especially not among the sons of Lozornath.  
  
Galdred pulled his cloak around him in the cold, still night. He fancied he heard hoof beats thundering away from the city, bearing Inredir the Scholar, Inredir the Unlikely King, away from Minas Nevir forever.  
  
He thought of Inredir as he had been years ago, before Goturin left. He had been wise, but also humorous and entertaining. He never married, and showed little interest in women at all. That had always been a bit unseemly, but since he was the third son it mattered little. He remembered Inredir as he had ascended to the chair at Lozornath's right- defeated and denied his chosen path. He remembered Inredir as he had been at Midsummer- noble and stately, presiding over the holiday feasts with the skill of an experienced ruler. But over the past few months Inredir seemed to be carrying a burden. Not a physical burden, but a mental anxiety. Under his eyes grew dark shadows that had deepened as the year progressed. He seemed to have aged ten years in a matter of weeks. And now he was gone.  
  
As Galdred neared his father's quarters he began to wonder if perhaps Inredir had stayed, and that Galdred had been expecting him to leave so much that now he believed it. But as he turned down the hall to the royal chambers, a page rounded the corner so quickly he nearly collided with Galdred. Stunned, the page bowed deeply.  
  
"Lord Galdred, your pardon, my lord. The King summons you and your brothers. I was not expecting to see you here." He stammered a few more apologies before Galdred interrupted him.  
  
"Go get my brothers, boy, and be quick!"  
  
The page scurried away. Galdred took a breath, steeled himself, and knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in," his father's voice carried faintly through the heavy oak door. Galdred opened it slowly and saw his father, grave and weary, sitting in a large chair. For the first time Galdred realized that his father looked exactly as he had almost ten years ago. He hadn't aged at all, really. His eyes bore the same shadow that had clouded Inredir's but his face bore no new wrinkles and his hair had not grayed at all. Galdred could only vaguely remember his long-dead grandfather, but he knew his grandfather had aged quickly. By sixty years of age his hair had fallen out completely. King Lozornath was nearly seventy and his hair was as thick and black as it had ever been.  
  
"You respond quickly, my son, unless you come on business other than the summons of that page that left not two minutes ago."  
  
"Inredir is gone, isn't he?" Galdred asked abruptly. Lozornath narrowed his eyes and Galdred instantly regretted his haste. Then Lozornath sighed.  
  
"Something foul, my son, foul indeed has taken over this land. But I will wait to speak of it until the rest of your brothers have arrived."  
  
It seemed hours before Epahar, Leocoz and Thoguth arrived together. Fiven came in behind them. His expression maddened Galdred- he seemed to be attempting to look concerned, but his eyes were full of greed and his lips twitched from a sober frown to a haughty sneer. The other three brothers seemed uneasy, but whether or not they guessed the reason for this meeting was unclear. The page shut the doors as he left and Lozornath motioned for them to sit in the five chairs that had been set facing him.  
  
The King was a man of few words, and his sons knew that once he spoke no details would be left out, and no flowering descriptions added in. He was staring at his hands and seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and the brothers shifted uneasily. Galdred guessed that the others knew what was coming. He braced himself as his father began to speak.  
  
"My sons, you are intelligent, and I think you know why you were called here in the middle of the night. One hour ago I went to Inredir's chamber to speak with him, and he was gone. I sent a servant to check with the gate guard, and he was found asleep and the gate open- the guard has been arrested for negligence and will be hanged at noon. Fiven, as you know, you are now my heir, but you will not speak at all to the crowds today or at any time on your brother's disappearance. I know well how you wanted this place a year ago, and now you have it. Be content with that and do not disgrace your brother and your house by mocking him." Fiven hung his head, appearing humbled, but Galdred was certain he saw a smile in the corner of his mouth. "Now all of you get out of my sight. At ten o'clock we will have a public ceremony to tell the people. I do not want to see any of you before then."  
  
The brothers left the room, but all seemed reluctant to continue past the first corridor. They looked at each other with black expressions, and Epahar, Leocoz and Thoguth all seemed to share Galdred's emotions. "Inredir has betrayed us, too," murmured Leocoz.  
  
"This is indeed an evil day," said Epahar slowly.  
  
"We all saw it coming," said Fiven smugly. "Inredir was as unfit for that post as a maid for soldiery. But, if our three brothers do not want the throne, I will take it happily. I have dreamed of this day since boyhood."  
  
Thoguth turned to face him, his brows arched contemptuously. "You may have Inredir's position but you will never have his wits or his dignity, especially if you continue to say such things. It was wise of father to restrict your speech, since you appear incapable of even pretended sympathy."  
  
Fiven straightened and glared up at his taller brother. "I would mind my tongue, *Seventh Brother,*" he spat scornfully, "if I wanted to maintain a respectful position in the city guard."  
  
"Your threats mean nothing to me, *Fourth Brother,*" he replied with equal acidity. "I would rather work a loom beside my wife than cater to you." Galdred had never heard Thoguth speak so boldly, and he was overwhelmed with respect.  
  
"When I am King of Minas Nevir I will remember your words today-"  
  
"You will not be King," said Leocoz softly. "We all know that if Inredir could not resist whatever temptation he saw, you will be less able. Inredir had no ambitions of power and must have been offered something so great even he could not refuse it. You are not half the man Inredir was."  
  
Fiven shook with fury. He searched for a scathing reply, but found none. Wordlessly he turned on his heel and walked away, still quivering with rage.  
  
Galdred had said nothing during the exchange, but now he clapped Leocoz and Fiven on their shoulders. "Well spoken, my brothers."  
  
Leocoz shook his head sadly. "Fiven's fate is sealed, we all know. But we are doomed as well. Nine for mortal men, doomed to die."  
  
Galdred started and looked at his brother with his jaw open. "What did you say?"  
  
Leocoz rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me, youngest Galdred, that you think any of us can withstand whatever it is that steals our brothers?"  
  
"Not that, Leo!" said Thoguth. "Nine for mortal men, doomed to die. The whisper. Have you both heard it as well?" Both nodded the affirmative.  
  
"I, too," added Epahar.  
  
"It is always when someone disappears," said Galdred. "I told Minla and she told me she'd dreamt I left her, and sang a song that must have something to do with it." He sang softly:  
  
"But when thou joinest with the Nine, And all the powers of song combine, We listen here on earth: The dying tones that fill the air, And charm the ear of evening fair, From the Great God of Bards, receive their heavenly birth."  
  
Thoguth whistled. "Nine. us, plus Father?"  
  
"That is what Minla and I thought."  
  
Leocoz slumped against the wall. "We are all doomed." Galdred was suddenly disgusted with his defeated attitude.  
  
"Stop that, Leo," commanded Thoguth. "We have enough trouble today to worry about tomorrow. Let's get through the morning and worry about doom later. We'll have enough trouble keeping Fiven quiet."  
  
Leocoz nodded and dragged himself after his brothers as they went to tell their wives the news. 


End file.
